


Fever

by cochleargarden



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Choking, Dom Will Graham, Dom/sub, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Gangbang, M/M, Sub Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23553124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cochleargarden/pseuds/cochleargarden
Summary: And it was Hannibal’s utmost pleasure, and in fact, the sole purpose of his existence to please Master.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 94
Collections: Just Fuck Me Up 2020





	Fever

Hannibal couldn’t speak and couldn’t see, mouth held open wide by a gag and vision impaired by a thick blindfold.

He was lying on his back on a table-like device. The cuffs around his wrists held his arms tightly against the surface, while those around his ankles were attached to two horizontal bars that climbed high on either side of the table, holding his legs back and spread wide enough to make the muscles in his thighs burn. His head was hanging off the edge, offering his mouth and his throat for use.

Around him he could hear voices, speaking with admiration and disdain alike for his helplessness, filling him with both pride and humiliation. He could tell them apart by smell alone, dozens of them, the reek of their sweat and arousal moving around the room.

A handful were courageous enough to step forward and touch him. Among those, fewer still were bold enough to pinch his skin and swat his ass playfully, making him flinch and garnering laughs from the circle of onlookers.

He smelt Master approaching. As was usual when they came to the club, Master never wore the atrocious aftershave, but still the scent of dogs and motor oil lingered, floating under his cologne. Hannibal heard him stop in front of his head. A warm, calloused hand landed on his neck, fingertips just shy off his steel collar. Master pressed tightly, reminding Hannibal exactly why he was subjecting himself to this.

Because it pleased Master. And it was Hannibal’s utmost pleasure, and in fact, the sole purpose of his existence to please Master.

Master’s hand slid down his chest, pulling on his chest hair and on the rings piercing his nipples. Hannibal shivered.

“You’re so beautiful. So perfect in your submission. You’d do everything to please me, yes?”

Hannibal made a sound from the back of his throat.

“You’d debase yourself for me, you’d let strangers claim you and defile you for my enjoyment.”

Hannibal moaned.

Master huffed a laugh. “My beautiful whore.”

One last caress and then the hand was gone, along with Master.

A signal was sent and Hannibal heard feet padding over the cement of the room. A dozen smells of sweat approached him and soon hands were touching him everywhere. They were caressing his hair, pulling the gag in his mouth, tickling the soles of his feet and his sides. Fingers slipped into his mouth, his hole, pulled on the rings on his nipples. Nails dug into the slit of his cock and a particularly enterprising tongue licked the 'W.G.' branded on his backside.

Hannibal squirmed under the torment of unknown hands, unable to do anything but take it.

For Master’s pleasure.

A slick cockhead touched his fluttering hole, and without warning, thrusted inside, sheathing itself entirely in one smooth, brutal movement. Hannibal howled at the burn of the stretch, his back arching off the table. His cry was cut short as another cock slipped inside his mouth. He gargled around the girth, saliva dripping out and down to his cheekbones. Giving him no respite, the two men started to thrust inside him at an unforgiving pace, rocking him back and forth between them.

He felt someone climb on the table and then another cock, a strap-on this time, pressed inside his hole beside the first. He moaned around the cock in his mouth, desperately trying to breath. They were going to tear him apart.

The second cock was ruthless in his hole, quick and fast and barely slick enough. It pounded upwards into his prostate and the onslaught of pleasure and pain tore through him like lightning. His neglected cock lay hard and leaking against his hip, none of his aggressors caring to stroke him to completion. They used him like a lifeless doll and Hannibal's entire body was rattled with shivers at the thought, a muffled moan ripping out of him.

The man using his throat laughed, and a heavy hand landed on Hannibal's neck. He pressed down to feel himself moving in and out of the tight passage. Hannibal started to panic, oxygen barely filling his lungs anymore. He struggled against his bonds, feeling the deep welts scratched onto his skin. His hole clenched painfully around the two cocks splitting him open.

As he was about to pass out, the hand choking him released him and air rushed into his lungs at once.

He came, howling around the cock in his throat. His body spasmed on the table, writhing helplessly as his aggressors fucked him through his orgasm. Long ribbons smeared across his own belly, some of them all the way up to his neck.

When he came to, the men were still moving inside him and he sobbed as the pain of overstimulation overrode the high of pleasure. He tried to turn away, at least to free his mouth to breathe, but to no avail. They laughed and kept going, ignoring his cries, ignoring the tears that fell from his eyes and wet the blindfold around his head.

One of them came inside him, shouting his pleasure, and once spent, pulled out, only for someone else to take his place.

Hannibal screamed and cried, begged for mercy with his body whatever was left of his voice, but he only got snears and more hands teasing him.

As it went on, he felt himself floating away, the pain leaving him, leaving his mind blank and blessedly devoid of anything.

His body rocked on the table, yet he didn't feel it. He didn't feel the cocks withdrawing, leaving him gaping and leaking cum, nor did he feel his cuffs being detached from the table. He didn't feel the arms pulling him up and carrying him away.

It was Will's voice that breached through the fog of his mind, what seemed like an eternity afterwards.

“--beautiful, so good for me, so wonderful. You’re perfect--” On and on it went, words of worship folding him into their tender embrace.

Will was holding him tight into a thick, fluffy blanket. He was rocking them gently; such a striking contrast to the savage clutch Hannibal just escaped. Will whispered in his ear, and kissed his temples. He pressed sweet nothings into his skin and carded a soft hand through damp locks.

Hannibal’s body was a shrine of pain. Bruises sang all over his body, muscles burning under marked flesh. Cum leaked out from him in a sticky, uncomfortable drizzle. And yet he felt light, serene. Sated.

He knew he was loved.

“I think--” His voice broke, hoarse from abuse.

Will looked down at him, his mouth stretched in an adoring smile. “Hey there.”

Hannibal nuzzled his neck. He cleared his throat and tried once more. “I think I could use a shower,” he managed to say. “Was it good?”

“For me? You were perfect. Did you enjoy yourself?”

Hannibal nodded, snuggling deeper into Will's arms. He felt entirely relaxed, a sensation he's been craving over and over for months now, since they fell into this relationship. “It was harder than I thought but you’ve put me through much more severe torments.”

Will smiled at him, devious. “This is nowhere near the most intense games we can play.”

A shiver ran down Hannibal's back, anticipation curling in his stomach. “I can’t wait to see your design.”


End file.
